


Jump Into the Sun

by Linana (Awsomeangel)



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-22
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2020-03-09 17:32:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18921766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Awsomeangel/pseuds/Linana
Summary: Life in Natsu's shadow isn't too bad. Tsuna gets three meals a day, isn't beat up too often and, because their mum is much too busy fawning over Natsu's achievements to look at Dame Tsuna, gets away easy with bad grades. Of course, that all changes when Reborn comes crashing in, guns blazing, ready to drag them both into the mafia by the scruff of their neck if needed.All27, twinfic, written in snippets and pieces, almost definitely in chronological order just, very short chapters for now





	1. Reborn

Reborn took a  _single_ tutoring job and within a week of his job’s conclusion, he had suddenly become the go-to tutor for all future mafia bosses.

The inbox he reserved for mafia work was flooded, the inbox he reserved for more ‘ _legal’_ work was flooded, even his personal email (unnervingly enough) had a few job offers trickling in. Idiots on their death beds from all over the mafia begged him for even a week of his time to whip their heirs into shape, offering anything from money and alcohol, to giant robot armies(?), it would have been funny if the constant pings weren’t so annoying. Reborn wrote a blunt message declining and sent it out en masse to all those who’d approached him through his work emails.

Those who had somehow located his personal inbox, he went to talk to personally. Anyone who could track down private info on the world’s greatest hitman deserved some sort of prize: theirs was the honour of being target practice for Reborn’s sexy new CZC AO1-LD. Better than they deserved, if he was to be honest. He’d nabbed the gun at a recent show and hadn’t even had a chance to christen it with a name and officially introduce it to the family yet – he rarely used his guns before they settled into their new home, but _oh,_ that smooth, slick cut, the curve of the grip, and that sweetly mild recoil, the CZC was threatening his CZ75’s place as his main weapon. Truly a gun after his own heart.

More pleasant thoughts aside, Reborn was on the verge of going berserk just to remind the mafia _who exactly he was,_ something they seemed to have conveniently forgotten the moment word of his success with the hopeless Cavallone heir got around.

Luckily for the rest of the world, the emails trickled off pretty quickly after Reborn expressed his disinterest. No one was brave enough to go against him, after all, and no one was stupid enough to try and sway him where others have failed. Any proof of the contrary aside, if Reborn said he didn’t teach, he didn’t teach. 

Reborn might have gone on a rampage anyways just to remind the mafia of their place (beneath him) in his younger days, but at the ripe old age of two years old, he really was getting too old to make such a big deal of things. The majority of his excessive pride had been neatly destroyed by Luce and her curse.

The mafioso were still young, he thought in a rare moment of merciful contemplation, he’d give them time to make other, bigger mistakes that he’d garner more satisfaction killing them over.

He’d just about put the incident behind him when a letter arrived in the mail. The envelope was high quality, the wax stamp leaved with pure gold. Strong, pure sky flames leaked from the envelope in droves, authenticating the document and providing a proper signature, and Reborn grudgingly appreciated the professionalism shown, something all the emails had clearly been lacking.

 _Dear Reborn_ , the letter said, _could you help an old man out of a tight spot? Life has been a mixed bag for me, as it is towards all of us mafia folk of course, but these last few decades have been a pleasure, watching my children grow up. I see my children beckoning to me from the other side now and I do think it is time for me to settle down with my age and choose an heir. These old bones won’t last forever_.

 There was only one man in the world who spoke this casually to Reborn, only one man who could pull off the helpless old man act so well it seeped through his letters. Cursing his softness towards his long-time friend and ally, Reborn began planning his trip to Sicily, home to the Vongola Famiglia headquarters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been trying to force myself to write something,, anything,,, these snippets exist to give me a way to practice, there might not be any actual plot or consistency in anything
> 
> I really like R27. There is going to be R27 in this, but any other pairings are undecided. I guess everyone loves Tsuna at least a little bit


	2. Tsuna

On the other side of the world, Tsuna is _suffering._

After a night of tossing and turning, his hair is puffier by at least five centimeters. There’s no time to fix it so Tsuna looks on the bright side and is grateful it adds to his abysmal height.

Tsuna hops out of bed (taking a few seconds to fall flat on his face) and after alternating between dressing and tripping for a few minutes, is out the door with his uniform jacket half buttoned up and his shoes slipping off his feet.

 His alarm clock had broken some weeks before and Tsuna had been consistently late to school ever since. His mum was sweet and perfect and utterly oblivious to everything and anything around her including her son’s descent into truancy – she’d giggle as she watched her ‘clumsy, Dame-Tsu-kun’ trip down the stairs at half past ten and scramble to put on his shoes without stopping before hurling out the door, but never seemed to take it upon herself to wake him up in the mornings or, you know, get Tsuna a knew alarm clock. By now, the bruises from Hibari’s daily morning punishments were starting to layer. Tsuna’s _bruises_ were getting bruises.

 Tsuna doesn’t blame her too much, he knows the _real_ culprit behind absolutely everything that had happened to him.

 Natsu is the perfect child. Smart, charming, athletic…

 Tsuna can just picture his dumb face as he explains sweetly to mum that ‘Dame-Tsuna doesn’t have club activities in the morning so it’s totally fine if he sleeps in! Besides, you have to stop babying him so much mum, he’s fourteen this year and needs to learn how to grow.’ Of course mum listens, she always listens to Natsu.

 Tsuna arrives at school just as first period came to an end, the sound of the bell draining all the energy out of his body as he collapses onto the ground by the school building, panting up a storm. His noodle legs just weren’t made for endurance. At least Hibari isn’t there to greet Tsuna–

 “Herbivore.”

 Ah. There he is.

 “This is the third week you have skipped first period. For truancy and consistent disregard of school rules, you–”

 “I’msosorrywon’thappenagainIswearbye!” Tsuna screeches and bolts in the opposite direction, not looking back until he’s safely in the building. Hibari seems to have given up on chasing, wandering off somewhere to most likely take a nap. Tsuna’s just glad he doesn’t have to deal with more bruises on his poor, bruised bruises.

 He slips into his seat just as the teacher walks in. Nezu-sensei spots Tsuna immediately and his lips purse, face bulging as if he’s on the verge of bursting a vein. He grabs some water and an aspirin before addressing Tsuna, using every synonym in the book for ‘useless waste of space’. Tsuna sinks down in his desk, red faced.

 Still, even second period with a red-faced, infuriated Nezu-sensei isn’t too bad when the alternate option is another day spent in the nurse’s office. It isn’t _good,_ but Tsuna’s too grateful for the lack of beating to _really_ hate Nezu as much as he usually does. Of course, Nezu was never the worst part of school.

 “Psst, Dame-Tsuna, late again, huh? Did your dad forget to wake you up? Oh right, you don’t have a dad!”

 Tsuna buries his head in his arms and prays they’ll lose interest soon. Part of him wants to snap back, another part of him is whimpering and wants to beg them to stop.

 “What, can’t say anything? I guess you’re just too dumb to talk back to us.” The kid sniggers unpleasantly, kicking Tsuna’s desk.  As if endlessly amused by this incredibly witty comment, half the class erupts into snickers. The poor teacher looks on, ignoring the titters with admirable resolve, and Natsu, sitting at the front of the class, turns to shoot Tsuna a smug grin. The kid beside Tsuna, the one whose foot had just made contact with Tsuna’s desk, perks up at Natsu’s attention, if prince Natsu himself approves, surely they must be doing _something_ right. Popularity was in reach!

 “Dame-Tsuna isn’t saying anything because he knows you’re right,” Natsu adds, still turned around. He grabs a piece of paper on his desk, scrunches it up and throws it at Tsuna. The paper bounces off Tsuna’s head. The teacher is desperately trying not to see Natsu’s obvious rule breaking, looking everywhere but Natsu’s general direction.

 Tsuna gives a little twitch, but doesn’t lift his head. He’s a veteran and knows well enough that it gets worse if he looks up or replies. He already _knows_ he’s useless and stupid, he may be dumb and failing all his classes but after the first year of being told the same thing repeatedly by half his classmates, even Tsuna managed to retain some information.

 “No one wants you around, stupid Tsuna. Not even mum.”

Natsu turns back around proudly. The class resumes like normal, taking their cues from their king. Tsuna bites back a sigh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UWU


	3. Iemitsu

“What. Are these.”

Iemitsu laughs nervously, glancing around to catalogue all his escape options. “They’re, you know, the reports! On my sons!”

…Right.

The papers are crumpled and coffee stained. The information is bare-boned at best. Reborn hesitates to call them reports, they’re more like a middle-schooler’s summer journal. This is information Reborn could get from watching the children for half a day.

This is, surprisingly, not the norm for Iemitsu. Despite Reborn’s absolute _disgust_ towards the man, he’s always been precise and thorough with his information gathering – it’s his job, after all, and Vongola would never promote the ineffective.

This sort of report is unusual. Reborn doesn’t like unusual when he’s not in on the reason. He also doesn’t like having to do someone else’s work for them.

“Redo them,” Reborn orders imperiously, and Iemitsu takes on an idiotically slack-jawed expression.

“ _What_ , Reborn these took _weeks!_ I have other work too, you know!”

Reborn sniffs. “They’re your spawn, Iemitsu. These reports should not take weeks to complete,” Reborn idly takes out his gun and flicks an imaginary piece of dirt off the shining surface. “There’s a reason _you_ got this job, and not some grunt worker.”

“I’m _busy_.”

“Not too busy to do your work. Or, would you rather I go in blind and train them the same way I trained Dino? I won’t be responsible if neither of them survive due to you neglecting to inform me of their limits like a proper informant.”

Reborn can almost see Iemitsu biting back a retort, the man is both brave and idiotic, but he doesn’t have a death wish.

“I can get Oregano to write up something more thorough in three days–”

“I didn’t realize it was the norm for bosses to force their assistants to do all their work for them.”

“I _did_ my job!”

“With the competence of a middle schooler, yes. I don’t know if you’re aware, but this isn’t middle school, Iemitsu.”

Iemitsu sets his jaw and looks at Reborn seriously, the idiot.

“I’m not going to rewrite a report just to please you. I’m not your student, I am the leader of CEDEF. You may be a dear friend and colleague but I don’t answer to you. If you have complaints, please take them to Nono.”

Reborn just shrugs and savours the look of relief in Iemitsu’s eyes before he flicks off the safety of his gun and shoots his _dear friend_ an attractively roguish grin. 

“Of course. Though, I’m sure we can negotiate something like grown adults without crying to Nono immediately.”

 _There’s_ the crushing terror he’s been looking for. Reborn knows he’s won before Iemitsu even manages to get a word out. Of course, he’s known this since before he stepped into Iemitsu’s office.

 _No one_ says no to Reborn.


	4. Yamamoto

Tsuna likes to eat lunch on the roof.

 It’s something of a new development. The roof used to be Hibari Territory before the Disciplinary Committee got themselves an official clubroom. Most are too afraid of Hibari’s violent return to venture near, even now.

 Tsuna’s afraid too, but he’s also desperate. The rooftop’s reputation keeps everyone else away, even potential bullies, and Tsuna hasn’t been able to eat lunch in peace for _years_ now. Hibari’s scary, but he’s still just one person compared to Tsuna’s bullies who like to gang up and crowd around, and the peace is so _nice._

 Since Tsuna’s unofficial claiming of the roof several months ago, he hasn’t had a single person join him.

 And then Yamamoto shows up.

 It starts when the other boy hurts his ankle. It’s not a bad injury, just a little bit of overuse, and Yamamoto’s told to take some time off to let it heal properly. He’ll be back on his feet in no time. These sorts of injuries aren’t unusual in sports, and Tsuna thinks the baseball team’s insistence that Yamamoto rest until it heals is quite nice (it’s certainly nicer than those classmates have ever been to Tsuna) but Yamamoto seems to see it as a personal failure. He comes onto the rooftop to punch the wall and cry, away from prying eyes.

 He doesn’t notice Tsuna sitting there awkwardly, not knowing whether to bolt or pretend he can’t see Yamamoto, until he’s about to leave. There’s a moment of silence as they stare at each other.

 “Hey, Dame-Tsuna! Wasn’t expecting to see you up here,” he laughs and Tsuna edges away just slightly, “How’re you doing?”

 Tsuna fumbles with his words a bit, just slightly terrified of Yamamoto. He’s never bullied Tsuna before, but Tsuna knows too many of the school’s sports stars to really trust any of them. “I, um, I’m good?”

 “That’s great!” Yamamoto sounds like an actor in a kid’s educational tv show, just a bit too cheerful to be normal. “Just now, that was pretty embarrassing. I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone.”

 Tsuna can’t detect any sort of threat but he’s scared anyways.

 “I-I won’t! Tell anyone!”

 “Thanks! I owe you one,” Yamamoto laughs, relaxing a little bit. Tsuna takes that as a cue to relax a bit as well.

 He’s still alive, and doesn’t have any new injuries. That’s good.

 Tsuna puts the incident behind him, there’s really nothing else he can do, but Yamamoto shows up the next day. And the next. And the day after that. Tsuna gets more and more afraid every time he sees Yamamoto on the roof. It's more of his teammates than Yamamoto himself, but Yamamoto’s shining baseball smile doesn’t help.

“Uh, Yamamoto-san…”

 Yamamoto looks up, an egg roll halfway into his mouth.

 “Yeah?”

 “Why do you… you know,” Tsuna stutters. Yamamoto stares blankly.

 “Why are you eating here?” Tsuna finally forces out, embarrassed. Yamamoto breaks into a grin.

 “I like eating here! It’s quiet, and you’re always alone up here, which seems pretty lonely. I just thought, since you helped me out, I should help you back!”

 Tsuna doesn’t know what to say. _Yamamoto’s kind of weird,_ he thinks, and then feels guilty immediately after. He settles on a, “I don’t mind being alone, you don’t have to keep coming,” and then cringes because _ouch that’s rude._

 “Don’t your friends miss you?” Tsuna quickly adds, trying to salvage the situation.

 “I’m sure they won’t mind if I join you a few times. Besides, we always practice at lunch and they told me to take it easy until my ankle’s healed.”

 Tsuna looks down at his bento. It has been two months. Yamamoto’s ankle was completely healed five weeks ago. He can’t bring himself to say any of this.

 “O-okay.”  

 Yamamoto goes back to his egg roll and Tsuna goes back to his bento. They don’t talk, conversation is scarce most days on the roof, but Yamamoto comes back every day and Tsuna settles comfortably into the routine. It’s nice, he thinks, to have some sort of friend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a pretty disjointed chapter idk
> 
> I've been thinking about AUs, specifically ones based off of Humanity has Declined where Tsuna's the mediator and the arco are the weird looking little fairy people.


	5. Reborn (again)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the disappearance lol I would promise a better update schedule but that would probably be. a lie. thank you for reading and everything tho!! I forget to reply to comments at times but I rlly do appreciate every one <333

After an exhausting flight sitting between by the world’s two most irritating toddlers and their harassed, vaguely apologetic mother, Reborn lands in a tiny airport just shy of Namimori’s farthest reaches. It’s a disgustingly beautiful day, and Reborn’s headache is increasing in intensity every second he spends with the sun in his eyes.

Reborn gets a few uneasy glances as he hops on the public bus, undoubtedly from worried adults debating on asking him where his parents are. It’s not a rare occurrence, but this constant reminder of what he’s lost grates on his nerves and he pulls out Iemitsu’s (rewritten) report with a bit more force than necessary.

Rifling through them, the first thing he notices is the fact that the majority of the report is identical to the first rejected draft. There is an obvious lack of effort put into the rewriting and the coffee stains seem to have grown in size. Iemitsu must’ve been banking on Reborn being far away from Italy by the time he has time to look through the report.  

Natsu and Tsuna. Sun and moon. Natsu is tall, Tsuna is short. Natsu likes sports, Tsuna likes videogames. Natsu is an upstanding citizen who helps little old ladies and picks up kittens, Tsuna is pathetic weakling who’s sacred of chihuahuas and never cleans his room. They’re twins, but the better candidate is obvious to anyone with half a brain.

Reborn’s not there to judge, though, he’s there to train them.

They can duke it out for title of Vongola Decimo later, after Reborn’s trained them and sent them off to Nono for inspection. It’s not as if Reborn has much personal interest in who gains what title. As long as the title is handed off to someone half competent (and easy enough for Reborn to influence), he could care less.

Flipping through the papers reveal little more information about the boys, but an obvious reluctance on Iemitsu’s part is obvious. Is he afraid? Unwilling to send his sons out to danger? He should know better, but Nono _had_ always indulged Iemitsu’s weaknesses as if they were endearing.

Idiotic, Reborn thinks, there’s no changing the outcome of the mission. He may as well try to put off the sun rising in the morning, or death of old age.

The bus pulls up near the Sawada residence just as Bad Thoughts™ start creeping their way toward Reborn. The bus driver waves as Reborn hops off, and after a few minutes of walking, Reborn’s there.

The Sawada household.

It’s nice, well kept, flowers framing the windows and the lawn neatly trimmed. Glancing through the window reveals Nana humming gently as she sweeps through the kitchen, absently wiping down the kitchen counter with a dreamy look in her eyes. The house looks as well kept inside as it is outside, at least from Reborn’s limited vision, and Reborn turns away to slip a flyer into the mailbox before leaving for his next destination: Namimori Middle. 


End file.
